My wife, Dana, is bisexual and I believe she loves select women as much as she loves me. I am fine with that because they have invited me to join them occasionally and we all benefit from the experience. Watching mature women at foreplay has made me so much better at it for which I am grateful and love to share with her lovers. We live in New Orleans and travel extensively to cultivate new friendships. If you are interested in friendship without any obligations let me know and we can discuss further options. Joe DeGiorgi
...suddenly everybody knows the word 'fake' is a four-letter word, an unwelcome stain heard less and less often, quietly stripped of it's power to dismiss and offend. This is a new breed of entitled stars, who churn out wet- dreams like tissue paper, the top 50 greatest videos hotly contested, a crowded place where a kind of lewd alchemy transmutes base desire into the spun gold of myth. Fantasies of millions of women play out in three dimensions, moans and squeals of undeniable passion cry out on these sound stages of bliss. The clitoris is queen, drawing all attention to the spotlight, where gentle fingers, and long, pink, probing tongues are the instruments of worship. There's a palatable, willful insistence for peak release, a non-negotiable, minimal demand. For all to see, they've learned and now apply technique. Brought up on porn, there's a flow from their own innocent days of sleepovers, spin-the-bottle and truth-and-dare, to their arrival here. The universal games girls play, now known for what they are, flirtatious displays of licentious intent, slow-burn seductions meant to inflame and arouse. (Crews feign indifference as genitalia swell and harden.) The plots are tighter, with fewer holes. The acting convincingly reveals to us ascendent angels used to adoration. They are, in a very real sense, exalted. How many can get rich flaunting irresistable, but dangerous, curves. Jealous of their privleged, elite status, money is taken for granted and no longer motivates. The real prize is this alternate universe itself, living among Amazons, real lust in the red-tinted air. Bi or Sapphic, these superstars--the Jade Bakers and Elexis Monroes of the world-- have A-list access to the most alluringly divine sex goddesses on the planet. A benign obsession floats them out of bed in the morning. Might as well be them fondling that delectable flesh. If they in turn must endure surrender to barely controllable lesbian lewdness, it might as well be them. At the mercy of hands practiced in the sapphic arts, immortal beauty disguised as animal instinct. Visceral, raw, and real.
four-letter word, an unwelcome stain heard less and less often, quietly stripped of it's power to dismiss and offend.
This is a new breed of entitled stars, who churn out wet- dreams like tissue paper, the top 50 greatest videos hotly contested, a crowded place where a kind of lewd alchemy transmutes base desire into the spun gold of myth. Fantasies of millions of women play out in three dimensions, moans and squeals of undeniable passion cry out on these sound stages of bliss. The clitoris is queen, drawing all attention to the spotlight, where gentle fingers, and long, pink, probing tongues are the instruments of worship. There's a palatable, willful insistence for peak release, a non-negotiable, minimal demand. For all to see, they've learned and now apply technique. Brought up on porn, there's a flow from their own innocent days of sleepovers, spin-the-bottle and truth-and-dare, to their arrival here. The universal games girls play, now known for what they are, flirtatious displays of licentious intent, slow-burn seductions meant to inflame and arouse.
(Crews feign indifference as genitalia swell and harden.)
The plots are tighter, with fewer holes. The acting convincingly reveals to us ascendent angels used to adoration. They are, in a very real sense, exalted. How many can get rich flaunting irresistable, but dangerous, curves. Jealous of their privleged, elite status, money is taken for granted and no longer motivates.
The real prize is this alternate universe itself, living among Amazons, real lust in the red-tinted air. Bi or Sapphic, these superstars--the Jade Bakers and Elexis Monroes of the world-- have A-list access to the most alluringly divine sex goddesses on the planet. A benign obsession floats them out of bed in the morning. Might as well be them fondling that delectable flesh. If they in turn must endure surrender to barely controllable lesbian lewdness, it might as well be them. At the mercy of hands practiced in the sapphic arts, immortal beauty disguised as animal instinct. Visceral, raw, and real.